


Untitled JunkCree Story

by cartoonjunkie



Category: overwatch
Genre: First Meetings, Friendship, Funny, HighBoom, JunkCree, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 05:06:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13380780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cartoonjunkie/pseuds/cartoonjunkie
Summary: While trying to lay low from the law Jesse McCree hides in a familiar dinner, but later has a run in with two other wanted criminals...





	Untitled JunkCree Story

McCree takes a seat at the bar of the old seemingly abandoned Panorama Dinner, he sips at a cup of coffee he made for himself, surprised any of the appliances even still work in this god forsaken place. He grimaces at the flavor when it hits his tongue, but then can't help chuckle to himself. After all these years, the coffee still tastes like boiled dirt, he smiles at the memories as he reminisces for a bit. His thoughts are disrupted when he hears a sound approaching from a distance, what starts as a soft hum quickly becomes a loud rumble of what could easily be distinguished as a motorcycle engine. Thinking quickly, McCree jumps over the diners counter and ducks down behind it, next second his 6 round peacemaker is in hand loaded and at the ready. He stays there silent as the loud sputtering engine of the motorcycle comes to a halt, immediately following after is the sound of a raspy voiced male rambling on incoherently accompanied by mismatched footsteps that undoubtedly are approaching the dinners entrance. The door slams open with an unmistakable kick, and the raspy voiced male enters the abandoned establishment.

"Coasts clear! C'mon in mate! This ol' dump oughta make due as a temporary hideout till the heat finally dies down, eh?" The voice calls out with an obvious stereotypical Australian accent.

A muffled grunt followed by a heavy whump hits the floor that McCree swears he can feel the ground shake, who ever this fella is he sure must be huge. McCree shakes off his hesitation to focus back on the task at hand, getting the hell out of there. He thinks long at hard at how and when he should make his move, he settles on a plan and mentally prepares himself for the incoming standoff.

"Wait a tick... I think someone's already maken themselves at home 'ere." The sound of the porcelain mug McCree had made coffee in clanks against a hard surface, there is slurping that is immediately followed by spitting. "Bleh, tastes like boiled dirt."

McCree lets out a chuckle that he instantly regrets a second too late.

"Oi, I heard that! Get outta there! Show yerself!"

Knowing full well that hiding is no longer an option, McCree quietly holsters his gun and reluctantly holds up his hands above his head and stands up with his back turned to the two obvious criminals.

"Go on, turn 'round so I can see ya! Keep those hands up, no funny business now!"

McCree obliges and turns around to meet his captors face to face, the first one to catch his attention is the unnaturally huge, big gutted man with a leather pig looking mask, wielding a giant short range double barrel handgun and large menacing hook.

"Spill it mate! Who're you and what're ya doing 'ere?!"

It takes a second for McCree to locate where the voice is coming from, too distracted by the giant pig man looking ready to kill him at any moment. His eyes meet with the lanky Australian, hunched over with what looks like a giant spiked tire lugged across his shirtless back and holding what appeared to be some sort of homemade grenade launcher. McCree cocks an eyebrow at the questionably odd duo.

"Oi! Don't be giving me them funny looks, pretty boy! Out with it! Who're you?!"

The southerner shrugs to himself, ain't no turning back now. "Name's McCree. I apologize fer the mess, it's not often I get company over. Would've appreciated it if y'all called ahead first." He says with playful sarcasm.

"You think you're being funny punk!?" The deep burly voice booms from the larger one of the two causing McCree to lose his cocky composure for a second.

"Now now, calm down Roadie! That's no way we talk to our host, I mean, we did barge in 'ere unannounced." The smaller one pats the others shoulder reassuringly.

"You can't be serious."

"Oh but I am serious, after all we are talking to the Jesse McCree." The blonde haired man gives McCree a cheeky knowing smile. "Isn't that right?"

McCree stalls for a second before regaining enough of his composure again to reply. "Well now, nice to know I have a few secret admirers out there. I'd give y'all my autograph but, as you can see I'm a bit held up here at the moment."

A strange cackling sounding laugh can be heard coming from the Australians throat, undoubtedly finding a bit of humor at the irony of the southerners comment. Somehow knowing that his quick witted comebacks are at least working on the smaller fellow was enough to put McCrees mind at ease a bit, he looks over the two some more and notices a seemingly large sack heaved across the larger ones shoulder.

"That's a mighty fine haul y'all got there." McCree points out fearlessly, knowing that if whatever was in that bag were of great enough value he'd already be dead.

"What's it to ya?" The raspy voiced Aussie snaps back.

"Nothing at all, 'cept it seems to me we both found ourselves in a similar predicament. Now I know I ain't in the best spot right now to be makin' any sort of deal giving our current situation, but..." McCree reaches a hand into his back pocket and pulls out a golden coin showing it to the two. "...I won't go telling anyone if you don't."

With his thumb he flicks the coin over to the blonde man and watches him quickly snatch it out of the air. "Ooo, shiny."

The Aussie pockets the coin and looks up at the larger brute "Coulda sworn there was someone here, must've been my imagining again. Looks pretty empty ta me, eh Roadie?"

The larger man scoffs and walks off to tend to their motorcycle, pulling out a couple of bedrolls to set up for the night. "Ah, good thinkin' mate! Best set up shop here till mornin'. Lookit 'em, like a mother hen buildin 'er nest. You always take such good care of me ya big lu-UGH!!" The Aussies words are cut short when a can of beans makes contact with the side of his head and knocks him down to the floor, followed by a deep muffled chuckle coming from the big bellied pig man.

McCree breathes a sigh of relief letting out a chuckle of his own as he finally puts down his hands, he makes his way over to the scrawny fellow lying on the floor and offers him a hand to help the other up. "I never got yer names, figured it's only fair."

It takes the blonde Aussie a second to focus till he sees the hand offered to him, he unclamps the harness leaving the tire that was on his back lying on the floor as he takes hold of McCrees hand and hoists himself up. Once standing McCree can't help but stare in awe, this strange guy is a heck of a lot taller than he looked a minute ago, standing well over several inches above the southerner.

"Thanks mate. Most folks know me as Junkrat, but you can call me Jamison. And this ton o' fun over 'ere is Roadhog."

Junkrat looks down at the cowboy with what McCree notices are fiery amber colored eyes, wild yet focused that felt like they were staring right into Jesse's soul. For the first time McCree felt something he hadn't in a long while... intimidation. He looks away and backs up a little beginning to feel uneasy under the others gaze, tipping his hat over his eyes as he does so in hopes the other doesn't sense his hesitance.

"Hey." The pig man closes in with another bedroll in his hand and shoves it into Junkrats arms.

"Oi, what's this about?"

Roadhog nods in McCree's direction giving him the hint before walking off again. "Ohh, right right. Here ya go mate."

The scrawny Aussie extends the bedroll out to McCree who looks at it puzzled for a second before taking it. "Thank ya kindly."

"Sure."

*

It's past sundown and despite his tiring eventful day McCree is unable to sleep, then again sleeping beside two complete strangers (one of whom snores like a gutted wild boar) doesn't help one bit. He lies there for a while more, trying as he might to will himself to sleep when he hears the sound of a squeaky metal hinge and movement coming from the Australians bedroll. McCree watches as the lanky mans silhouette rises to his feet with a stretch and makes his way out the front door of the abandoned diner, McCree ponders to himself if he should follow when another boisterous snore erupts from the large masked man and decides he'd rather be out in the cold than continue to listen to that god awful racket.

McCree takes a step outside into the brisk desert breeze, the light from the moon and stars shining brightly casting enough illumination to see the horizon clearly. He looks around for his fellow late night wonderer when he sees the tall scrawny figure standing next to the ledge of the cliff, McCree would be lying if said he wasn't afraid the foreigner would jump, but breathes a sigh of relief when he hears the sound of a zipper and distant trickle of what could only be bodily fluid.

The cowboy shakes off his unneeded worry and moves to grab his half smoked cigar from his jean pocket, he sticks it in his mouth as he searches his remaining pockets for a light which he can't seem to find, then his head shoots up when he hears the zipper again and mismatched footsteps approach him.

"Late night pisser too eh?" Junkrat grins taking a seat on a nearby rock next to the cowboy.

"Na, just a bit restless I s'pose." McCree lies, still rummaging through his pockets hoping to find anything he can use to light his cigar. He's about to give up when a mechanized hand moves in front of his face and flicks its fingers together causing a flint like spark to singe the end of Jesse's cigar enough for it to light.

McCree takes in a few puffs, tasting the flavor of the smoke on his tongue before exhaling, watching the smoke wisp away into the calm night breeze. "That's a mighty useful trick."

"I reckon. It's a chemical I made myself." Junkrat demonstrates a few more times, both of them watching the sparks emit as he flicks his fingers. "What's your story then eh?"

McCree looks down at his own mechanized arm, "Oh this ol' hunk a hardware? Train accident." He lies again.

The two sit silent for a while, both gazing off into the distance and the starts shining brightly overhead, Junkrat makes a sound and McCree looks over to see the shirtless man shivering a bit, without a second thought McCree takes off his red poncho and tosses it over the scrawny Aussie.

"Thanks mate."

(I wrote this ages ago and couldn't find the inspiration to finish it...)


End file.
